re?"

"Of course not. I'm most certain I saw him in the village just after the
works were shut down."

There was a ring of truth in the boy's tones which could not be
mistaken, and the rioters appeared satisfied.

"Abe, go an' tell Billings that Brace got out of here in time to warn
Wright, an' let him know what we've struck. Don't waste any time now."

When the messenger had departed the leader beckoned to another member of
the party, and said as he pointed to Sam:

"Take care of him. The whole thing would soon be up if he should get
away."

"What'll I do with the cub?" the man asked in a surly tone.

"Anything so that you keep him safe. A thump on the head will help
straighten matters, if he tries to kick up a row."

"Where are you going?"

"We'll foller up Zack an' Jake, an' if they catch the boy there'll be
nothin' to prevent our finishin' the business we came for."

After a brief consultation, which was carried on in such low tones that
Sam could not distinguish a word, the men started down the drift,
leaving the prisoner and his captor alone.

Sam knew the man was named Bart Skinner, and that he was an intimate
friend of Billings'. He had the reputation of being quarrelsome and
intemperate, and was exactly the sort of person one would expect to see
among such a party as were now committing lawless deeds.

"I don't count on wastin' much time with you," Bart said when the
footsteps of his companions had died away in the distance. "I'll leave
you in a safe place pervidin' you behave; but let me hear one yip, an'
I'll try the weight of my fist. Come along."

No attempt had been made to fetter Sam. The rioters understood that it
was impossible for him to escape, and probably looked upon it as a clear
waste of labor.

When Bart spoke he seized the boy by each arm, forcing him through the
aperture, and then retaining his hold as he followed. Once in the tunnel
the two pressed on at a rapid gait toward the shaft, Sam being obliged
to walk a few paces in advance, until they arrived at a point where a
tunnel had been run at right angles with the drift; but which was shut
off by stout wooden doors.

"We'll stop here a bit," Bart said, as he tried to unfasten the rusty
bolts which had not been used for many years.

Believing that he might as well accept his capture with a good grace
instead of sulking over it, Sam did what he could to assist in opening
the doors.

When the task was finally accomplished B